Dancing with Ghosts
by Permanent Rose
Summary: Esti has left her community to raise her daughter on her own. Though she still keeps in contact with her family & Ronit, she is firm about keeping some distance as she discovers who she truly is without the confines of her community or past relationships. Reflecting back on memories from her youth, she prepares to see Ronit again for the first time since the birth of her daughter.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Just a note before you start reading - I'm not Jewish, but I've worked in an Orthodox Jewish school for two years, and I have really immersed myself in the community, so I feel like I have a unique perspective that gives me a certain amount of confidence when writing about this topic. However, I'm no expert and I'm only familiar with the nuances in this certain community so I apologize for any misrepresentations of Orthodox Judaism. My drive for writing this story was the fact that I felt like Disobedience lacked substantial character and backstory development so I'm here to fix that :)_

* * *

 _Modeh ani lifanekha…_

Esti presses her eyes shut against the pale beams of morning sunlight, trying to suppress the influx of words, but the morning prayer of gratitude still spills uselessly through her mind.

 _Melekh chai v'kayam shehechezarta bi nishmahti b'chemlah, rabah emunasekha._

The habit is ingrained, as though coded into her very being. It's the same way she can't look at a plate of food without categorizing each food on her plate by the _bracha_ she'd have to say, or the way bread feels heavy and forbidden in her mouth when she doesn't wash for _ha'motzi_ before eating a sandwich. She wants to live through just one day without remembering she is Jewish - just one day when her choices won't feel like they are influenced solely by the weight of her past.

The initial weeks after she left Dovid were the hardest. The world beyond her sheltered community was so vast and dizzying she nearly crawled straight back to immerse herself in the comfort of familiarity. She cannot imagine how Ronit did it so many years before her, the thought causing her stomach to clench in tangled sympathy. Perhaps it was Ronit's plucky youthfulness that gave her so much success. Esti often feels as though something essential in her has been all used up, that she is merely a shell of what she might have become.

Dovid had insisted that she stay, even if she wished to end their marriage, even it was just until the baby was born. He had shown her considerable compassion, perhaps even more than she deserved, but she had come to the sobering decision that she needed her distance. Ronit would not let her fade quietly into the background either.

"Come to New York," Ronit had desperately pleaded, her voice soft and strangled over the phone. Esti had nearly conceded. Even this garbled version of Ronit's voice made her stomach tumble with raw desire.

But Esti was insistent. To truly discover herself, to grapple with her newly granted freedom, she wanted (no _needed_ ) to do it on her own. She promised not to sever ties completely, but she needed her own space and independence.

There are still days where she feels so cripplingly lonely that she longs for Ronit's gentle touch, the way they have always fit together like perfectly matched puzzle pieces. She even wishes for Dovid, so sure and decisive, ready to love and protect even in her moments of uncertainty. Her strict and reclusive upbringing has left her with very little to cling to. She has no connections, no proper education, hardly any useful skills to aid in her survival in a world more vast than she ever imagined. Her progress often feels insubstantial, aggravatingly mundane, but she reminds herself to reflect on her small achievements. She has a small flat of her own, one she can properly pay for with money she has earned from her job teaching nursery school.

And of course she has Charlotte.

Her lovely, precious daughter is the greatest sum of all her parts, a blinding accomplishment in a world where she often has nothing more to offer. She cannot believe her body produced something so complex and perfect. She loves her daughter with an entirely new part of herself that burst open the moment she was born.

She properly opens her eyes now, adjusting to the slats of light that spill across her bed. Charlotte sleeps beside her, swaddled in a tangle of sheets. Her honey colored hair spills across the bare skin of her back. That beautiful creamy skin. She touches it gently now, her fingers pausing on each faint freckle. She never wants Charlotte to feel she needs to cover her beauty, to hide behind so many layers she can't quite discern who she is truly meant to be.

Charlotte is nearly three now. Her birthday is a date that looms ominously in Esti's mind, though she no longer has any reason to dread the arbitrary event. She cannot remember her own third birthday, but she remembers her younger brothers' and sisters', a day to mark that a child is not longer a passive recipient in his or her Jewish education; they are now capable of taking an active role in their upbringing. It is the day a child begins to grow up. The event - as many traditions are - is more significant for boys. They will have an _upshernish_ \- their first hair cut - and receive the outward garb of a _yarmulke_ and _tzitzits_ that distinguishes each Jewish man. The girls in turn begin to cover their bodies as women do.

Esti cannot imagine stuffing Charlotte into a knee-length, long-sleeved dress each morning, especially with the heat of summer upon them. It seems cruel to subdue her free little body, to burden her with the awareness of shame.

Esti's mother had visited just yesterday, and she had followed her mother's gaze to her own daughter, clad only in a pair of Moana panties as she banged loudly on her toy xylophone. Esti always unearths something _frum_ from the back of her closet and covers her sun-kissed hair beneath the thin fabric of a _tiechel_ when her mother comes to visit. It wouldn't be fair for her mother to see her any other way, not after how magnanimous her mother has been.

"I told your father I'm visiting Mushka," her mother had explained the first time she showed up on the doorstep of Esti's flat only days after Charlotte's birth. Her father had not taken kindly to Esti's abrupt rejection of her faith; her mother's heart is softer. "It was Mushka's idea at first. Chanale just had her first baby too, you know. Mushka told me it was unbearable for her to think of any woman missing out on the joy of holding her own grandchild," she concluded, and Esti had nearly collapsed into tears as she passed her small, gurgling baby into her mother's outstretched arms.

Her mother now visits almost once a week, an occasion muddled with a strange mixture of anxiety and affection. Esti is careful to serve her mother prepackaged _pareve_ food on disposable plates to accommodate the strict kosher dietary laws. She turns off the radio and tucks away any items that hint too strongly at a secular life style. She knows her mother must know it's a charade, but she wants to make her mother's visits as comfortable as possible, more terrified than she'd like to admit if they were to ever stop.

The older Charlotte grows, the less like a baby she becomes, Esti finds she braces herself with each of her mother's visits for an influx of simmering judgement. She fears there will be a day when her mother announces quite suddenly, "That's quite enough, Esti. We've let you play out this childish game long enough. Now give me the baby, and I will take her back to where she belongs."

Of course her rational mind knows this will not happen. In the very least, she knows her mother has no jurisdiction to take away her child, but the sudden wave of inadequacy always catches her off guard. She held her breath for longer than necessary yesterday as she watched her mother watch her nearly-naked child delight in her xylophone banging. She found herself desperately wishing she had wrestled Charlotte into a _tznius_ dress so that her mother would have something else to give her attention to.

She had been surprised to see her mother's face melt suddenly into a soft smile. "I remember when you, Dovid and Ronit were that age. You spent so many summer days running around half-naked while Chavi, Nechama and I watched you from the Kuperman's porch. You especially loved to muck about in the sprinkler." She had chuckled fondly before bending down to kiss her own granddaughter's head.

Esti recalls the memory now, and though she doesn't have her own recollection of that time in her life, she can easily imagine it. She can see the three mothers in the back garden, beads of sweat perspiring beneath the thick hair of their _sheitels_ , stiffly sitting on their wicker chairs to avoid unnecessary movement beneath their layers of clothing. The memories of summer still make her squirm with a branded feeling of stifling heat. Years and years of covering her body in the muggy heat of the summer could never prepare her for just how unbearable it always was.

She can just as clearly picture herself, Ronit, and Dovid, the thought immediately lifting the suffocating heat from the memory. Dovid must have had long hair then, since it was before his _upshernish_. They must have looked nearly indistinguishable as they splashed water over their exposed bodies - plump rosy cheeks, smooth, featureless chests, wild curls spilling down their backs. Genderless children. Free.

She kisses her own daughter's bare shoulder now, breathing in the warmth of her skin. She wishes the memory were her own. She wishes she could remember before it mattered that Ronit was a girl and Dovid was a boy.

Before it mattered who she loved.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mummy, I want to go swimming," Charlotte announces as Esti clears away the breakfast dishes. She already has her swimming costume on, though she has somehow managed to stuff her head through one of the arm holes and put the entire thing on backwards.

Esti chuckles softly at the sight of Charlotte's flushed cheeks as she flops her arms around in her pink and yellow suit. She puts the syrupy pancake plates into the sink and helps her daughter fix her swimming costume. "Alright." She smoothes Charlotte's hair and kisses her forehead. "Sounds like a lovely plan. Will you gather your pool toys while I go change?"

Charlotte happily obliges, and Esti steps into the bedroom, unearthing her swimwear from the bottom draw of her bureau. There's her full body swimming costume, complete with a polyester swim skirt. She also has a modest one piece with a matronly floral print. And then there's her scarlet bikini.

She hadn't meant to buy the bikini. It had happened after much solicitation from Tanya, who teaches nursery with her and often insists on taking Esti on frivolous outings. They had visited the shops last week while Tanya's younger sister watched their children.

"You must try it on!" Tanya had insisted when she noticed Esti looking at a red bikini with gold edging for a moment too long. And in typical Tanya fashion, the innocent, earnest _try it on_ , had quickly escalated to, "You must get it, Esther! You absolutely must. I will never forgive you if you don't; it's much too gorgeous a color on you. God, I wish my body still looked that good."

Esti had stood awkwardly near the changing curtain, resisting the urge to grab it and wrap it around her exposed body. She had never bothered to tell Tanya about her past, knowing all too well that it would have quickly become the most interesting thing about her. There are often moments with Tanya when she feels she can't find the words to properly express herself without delving into her messy history. There never seems to be a place for her where she can be unabashedly herself, vulnerabilities and all.

The scarlet suit still has the tags, and Esti is careful not to tear them off as she steps into the scant material with minor trepidation. Her body is still trim and fit (single motherhood is the apparently the workout of a lifetime), and she tries to look at her reflection as though she is admiring a woman who is not herself.

"Mummy! You got a new swimming costume!" Charlotte exclaims as she rushes into the room with her bag of toys dragging noisily behind her, leaving Esti no time to further consider her attire. "It's so, so pretty. Look! You forgot to take off the tag. Silly Mummy!"

And with one fierce tug, her hands still sticky with syrup, Charlotte rips the tags free.

XXX

The day is muggy and overcast, so the crowd at the pool is scarce. Even so, Esti can never quite shake the feeling that people are watching her, that at any given moment an angry man will appear from the fringes of a crowd and demand she cover her body better or that she is behaving socially unacceptably and how dare she disgrace her entire family and community this way.

She quietly situates Charlotte by the wading pool and slips out of her gauzy dress, trying to pretend as though her skin isn't burning. She has just pulled up a chair to the water's edge when her mobile rings. She nearly ignores it, because only Tanya calls her on her days off, and Tanya requires a certain, chipper mood that Esti is not always able to muster, but then she glances at her phone and startles sightly.

 _Ronit._

"Is everything okay?" She answers the phone quickly before it defaults to voicemail. She's already done the calculations in her head and it's only a quarter past four in the morning in New York so why would she be calling unless something tragic has happened, _chas v'sholom._

"Hello to you, too, Esti. No one has died, and I still have all ten fingers and toes," Ronit's voice melts through the phone line and Esti can feel relief spread through her entire body.

"Sorry," Esti offers. "I've been trying desperately not to be an alarmist, though obviously my efforts are futile."

Ronit chuckles, and Esti can hear a faint rustling and Ronit's gentle breathing as she readjusts herself. She tries to imagine Ronit in bed she's never seen, in a city she's never visited, but there is something calm and familiar about picturing Ronit's smile or the way she absentmindedly tangles her fingers through her hair that makes Esti feel instantly less alone.

"Why are you calling then?" Esti urges when Ronit doesn't offer.

"Oh, you know, can't sleep and all that nonsense," Ronit begins casually, but then the tone of her voice dips. "You know you're still the person I think most about during these long, late nights."

Esti blushes hard. She's sure Ronit must feel the heat through her own mobile.

"I was actually thinking of our late night conversation from last week. Thought I ought to return the favor. Though there's no alcohol involved this time, I'm afraid," Ronit says wryly.

"You cannot take anything I said even remotely seriously!" Esti protests, only vaguely remembering her blathering after drinking nearly an entire bottle of wine that Tanya had gifted her. She can't even quite remember her motivations for drinking, only that with Charlotte sleeping soundly and the quietness of the flat seeping in around her, the bottle had seemed a lovely companion for the evening.

"On the contrary," Ronit muses, "it has been said that drunk words are often the most honest of all. And you, my dear, were very, very honest."

"What did I say?" Esti asks frantically, her voice too loud. Charlotte looks up from her pail of water to study Esti's panicked face. "I honestly can hardly remember a word I said, so I can assure you than you can't take it at all seriously."

"Esti, Esti," Ronit soothes, and her stomach flutters slightly, just as it does every time Ronit says her name. "I'd much rather discuss this all in person, and I'm quite sure after speaking to you last week that you would too. That's why I've booked a flight for next weekend. And before you protest," Ronit adds so quickly that Esti cannot even sputter a word, "and begin your lengthy monologue about needing the time and space to discover who you are, it's just a visit. I'm not asking you to put your life on hold or make any dire decisions. I just want to see you. I miss you." Her voice catches softly on the last phrase, and Esti finds herself clinging desperately to the phone.

She opens her mouth to answer, but Charlotte has begun thrashing the surface of the water violently with her plastic shovel. "Charlotte, darling," she hisses. "What did we say about splashing? Gentle scoops, remember?"

"Sorry, I'm interrupting something, aren't I?" Ronit speaks with sudden meekness. "I'd completely forgotten that you aren't a muddled insomniac mucking about in the wee hours of the morning. I hope I'm not calling at an inconvenient time."

"No, no, not at all," Esti assures her. She is certain her voice sounds a bit off, as she still has yet to process that Ronit will be arriving _here_ in less than a week. "I've just taken Charlotte swimming."

"Ah, and do pray tell, what does your swimming costume look like?" The flirtatious remark catches Esti off guard and her mobile nearly tumbles from her hand into the water. Their ability to banter in the midst of lofty topics is a coping mechanism they've developed over the years. "Hopefully something scandalous." Here Esti needs to stand up to properly inhale. "Remember that little red number I convinced you try on when we snuck off to shops when were thirteen?"

Of course she remembers. The memory has been looping in her mind on repeat ever since she put the bikini on this morning. She can clearly remember the rubbery scent of bus exhaust stinging her nose as Ronit coaxed her to board, her mind buzzing with an intoxicating mixture of thrill and anxiety.

"Are you sure Hinda will cover for us?" Esti worried as Ronit led her confidently to back of the bus. Ronit was always enamored with adventure. Esti was only enamored with Ronit.

"Well, fuck her if she doesn't," Ronit spoke frivolously. "She won't get those illicit Mars bars she's been craving if she does."

As they stepped off the bus, Esti kept turning to make sure they hadn't been followed, that one of the rabbis wasn't waiting around every corner just to scold them.

"Esti, I assure you if we see anyone we know here, they'll be in just as much trouble as we are," Ronit had promised her, her lips tickling against Esti's ear, and the delicious tingle it sent down her spine suddenly seemed well worth the wrath of any community elder.

The vibrant colors and din of the city were slightly nauseating at first, but Ronit's sense of adventure was contagious and Esti managed to let her nerves relent. Her sense of anticipation only began to surface again as Ronit started to rummage through swimming costumes, insisting they each try one on.

"It's not _frum_ ," Esti feebly protested as Ronit nudged bikini as bright a siren in her direction.

"It's not like we're going to buy them," Ronit retorted, choosing a beaded turquoise bikini for herself. "Besides, we won't let anyone else see. I promise we'll keep your modesty in tact for the time being."

She grabbed Esti's hand in her own and shuffled her behind the changing curtain. "I'll be in the one next to you."

Ronit left her suddenly with the red swimming costume burning in her hands. It seemed impossible that these meager scraps of fabric could properly cover her, but Esti managed to adjust it properly over her slender form. She faced away from the mirror, terrified of the reflection that would greet her.

"You ready?" Ronit's muffled voice traveled into her changing room.

"No," Esti squeaked pitifully.

"Are you not mentally prepared, or are you still physically indecent?" Ronit spoke to clarify, but she didn't wait for a reply before pushing back the curtain and joining Esti in her changing room. "Oh my..." Her voice had suddenly changed as she looked at Esti with an unfamiliar glint in her eyes.

Esti's uneasiness had dissipated suddenly upon drinking in the sight of Ronit. The swell of her newly developed breasts pressed against the turquoise fabric, and her legs looked especially long and lustrous. She found her mouth was suddenly too dry to speak.

"You look gorgeous, Est," Ronit took a step toward her. "And I really, really mean that. Red is certainly your color."

And suddenly Esti could not bear it. A strange desire bubbled inside of her, and she had an uncontrollable urge to feel Ronit's bare skin against her own. She reached out suddenly to embrace her friend fully, reveling in the the soft skin of their bellies pressed together. She let out a small, shuddering breath as her nose rested against Ronit's neck.

"Is everything okay?" Ronit muttered against her hair, though she made no effort to pull away.

Esti felt her cheeks flush, but she kept her body against Ronit's, even if just only for a moment longer. "Thank you for making me feel beautiful."

"I'm wearing my _frum_ swimming costume," Esti lies suddenly, all at once dizzy and panicked.

Ronit lets out small sigh, just barely audible through the phone line. "What a shame."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So I know I've thrown a handful of Jewish/Yiddish terminology into this fic without any explanation - thus far I feel like everything has been pretty easy to more or less deduce the meaning of based on context (correct me if I'm wrong and I'll gladly explain anything haha). But in this chapter I include something that requires a little bit more context, though I will warn you that I do not fully understand this concept as a whole myself. In Judaism, your soul (or at least an element of what makes up your soul) is called your neshama, and when you sleep at night, it is believed that your neshama goes back to God (it's source) to be refreshed before returning to your body in the morning. I really know nothing beyond this, but one of my preschool students told me once that his neshama comes and visits me sometimes at night and I thought that was really cute (hopefully this is not inadvertently offensive, I'm going off the ramblings of a 4-year-old haha) but anyway that is all the context you need to know._

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As the sun paints the sky hues of dusky purples and pinks, Esti tucks Charlotte beneath the quilt of their shared bed. She kisses her damp hair, which still smells faintly of chlorine.

Her eyes are already fluttering shut, but she implores dreamily, "Mummy, can you read my web book?"

Esti strokes her hair softly. "It's getting late, Charlotte."

"Please?" The word catches on the edge of yawn. "Jus' a little bit."

"Alright," Esti concedes, taking the worn copy of _Charlotte's Web_ off the night table. "Just a very small bit."

She opens to the dog-eared page, touching the familiar text fondly with her fingertips. She hadn't had many novels growing up. Her mother was wary of inviting any sort of secular influence into their home, and even library books had to go through a careful screening before she or her siblings were permitted to consume them. Ronit's family had been more lenient. Her father was benignly oblivious to the daily happenings in his home, as he was always stowed away in his study, and Ronit's mother had a quiet way of always making sure to affirm the girls' interests instead of diminishing them.

The girls spent many afternoons lounging on Ronit's bed, stockings and shoes tossed carelessly on the floor, their skirts unintentionally riding up their thighs as their bare legs touched on the bed. Ronit's bedroom was the safest place in Esti's world - a place where she felt as though she could shrug off every burden that endlessly piled on her shoulders. The girls often read each new novel Ronit acquired simultaneously, both much too eager and voracious readers to take turns. They developed a similar reading pace, and often Ronit could turn each page without consulting Esti, and they became lost deep within the words.

One of Esti's long-standing favorites had been _Charlotte's Web_ , an innocent story that would've been vetoed immediately in Esti's home for the mere fact that it featured non-kosher animals. But tucked away in the haven of Ronit's room, it was a powerful story about how an unexpected friendship could change the course of a predetermined life.

"Charlotte is such a lovely name, isn't it?" Esti had stated once, taking the book from its place on the bookshelf and tracing each letter of the name with her finger. "If I should have a daughter, I would want to name her Charlotte."

Ronit scooted closer behind her, resting her chin against Esti's shoulder and peering at the book. "It's a gorgeous name," she agreed. Her nose tickled the edge of Esti's jaw. They were always touching, often unintentionally, sometimes quite deliberately. The laws of _negiah_ clearly forbid any sort of physical contact with the opposite sex until marriage, but Esti and Ronit always relished in the fact that these laws did not apply to them.

The memory settles warmly in Esti's chest before seeping away into a crippling emptiness. She clears her throat suddenly and finds her spot on the page, whispering the words softly like a lullaby as her own Charlotte succumbs to sleep.

 _"'Why did you do all this for me?" Wilbur asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.'"_ Esti's voice is barely audible now. Charlotte's chest rises and falls in a slow and soothing rhythm.

 _"'You have been my friend," replied Charlotte. "That in itself is a tremendous thing.'"_

She turns off the bedside lamp, moving soundlessly from the room, though she keeps her thumb tucked in the book to mark her page. She situates herself on the couch, resting the book on her knees and she reads. She reads until the end of the novel, until she is sobbing great heaving sobs of nostalgia. She hugs the book to her chest and cries until there is nothing left.

When she is finished, she places the book on the coffee table and reaches for her phone and scrolls through her recent calls in one seamless motion.

"Esti," Ronit answers on the first ring.

"I'm sorry about earlier." The words gush from her mouth. "I miss you terribly as well, and I desperately want to see you."

"Are you drunk again?" Ronit asks warily.

"No," Esti promises firmly, pressing the phone against her ear. "Well, perhaps a bit drunk on exhaustion."

She can feel Ronit smile through the phone. "Go to sleep, Esti," her voice lulls and suddenly Esti can hardly keep her puffy eyes open. "We can talk in the morning."

Esti pulls the afghan off the back of the couch and cocoons herself beneath it. Her bed is all at once much too far away. She cradles the phone against her ear and listens to Ronit breathe.

"Esti?"

"Hm?"

"Have I already lost you to the land of slumber?" She imagines Ronit's voice tumbling across the ocean before nestling itself gently in her ear.

When Esti speaks, her voice sounds as wispy as a dream. "Remember when we were little and we used to pretend our _neshamas_ would visit each other at night?"

"I'd almost forgotten about that. I would always fall asleep facing my window, hoping I could see the silvery puff of your _neshama_ before it would come to slip into my dreams," Ronit answers.

"I'm sending my _neshama_ to you tonight," Esti murmurs, almost certain she can feel the silvery puff hovering above her like tiny cloud, and she is fast asleep before she can even hang up her phone.

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 _A/N: Real question though does anyone actually read fanfiction on this site anymore?_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I've only seen the movie once and I can't recall if they mentioned how or when Ronit's mother died so I've taken the liberty of providing my own details about the subject. Thanks again for all your feedback - it truly gives me that push of motivation I need to write each chapter!_

"Esther? Hello? Earth to Esther!" Tanya's voice sounds distant, and Esti does not particularly want to coax herself towards it. She is content to sit here with her group of four-year-olds, dreamily swirling a paintbrush in its water cup, just focused enough to make sure her students are painting more or less on their papers rather than on each other.

"Hmm, yes?" She takes the brush out of the water and dries it on a scrap of paper towel, watching the damp stain web out before taking another paint-saturated brush and repeating the process.

"Miss Esther, look! I'm done," a child interrupts, holding up his soggy painting.

"It's lovely, Ross. Can you lay it smoothly on the rack? Yes, good, nice and slowly. Well done. Please wash your hands." Her voice is saturated with trained patience. Four-year-olds don't have a bit of common sense.

"Sorry, Tanya. I'm a bit distracted today." Esti returns her attention back to her co-teacher. "What is it you wanted to ask me?"

"You most certainly _are_ distracted," Tanya agrees with a smirk, but her tone is good natured. She straightens Ross's painting so it lays properly flat, rubbing her fingers together until the excess tempera paint flakes away from her skin. "So, I wanted to ask you if you've got plans this weekend. My friend Ashley - you remember her, right? The one who's got the big nose and that dreadful Pooh bear tattoo on her ankle? Anyway, we're taking our kids to the zoo on Saturday. Her daughter is Ella and Charlotte's age, so I thought you might want to join us."

"Saturday? No, I'm sorry, I can't," Esti answers, taking the wet brushes over to dry by the sink. "I've got, um, I've got a...thing." She is suddenly unbearably flustered as she thinks about Ronit's arrival.

"A thing?" Tanya regards her with a classic eyebrow raise, which she is surprisingly adept at. Esti's is quite certain her eyebrows could never obtain that range of motion. "You've got a thing! When were you going to tell me? Actually, never mind about that, just tell me what sort of thing it is!" She is gushing with far too much enthusiasm, and some of the children have stopped their painting to properly state.

"Um, well..." Esti speaks meekly, then turns quietly to address a tiny blonde girl with neatly plaited hair. "Bethany, would you be a dear and ring the clean up bell?"

"You were telling me about the _thing_ ," Tanya prods as the bell rings shrilly, and the children all at once respond like Pavlovian dogs.

"Well, um, someone is visiting. Someone I haven't seen in a rather long time," Esti replies, stacking the paint trays and handing them to a rather competent child to wash in the sink.

"Oh, a visitor? Someone special, is it?" Tanya sprays the paint-stained table with a frothy soap and water solution, and a mob of children wielding sponges quickly comes to sop it up eagerly.

Esti tries to look coy but can feel her cheeks reddening. "Yes, it is someone rather special."

"A special someone! You've never mentioned anyone before!" Tanya exclaims. "Let me know if you need me to take Charlotte at all during the weekend so you can properly catch up."

"Thank you. I will keep that in mind," Esti graciously intones, and then to a child who is scrubbing with particular fervor, "Clarissa, you've been cleaning so nicely. Would you like to go pick out the book for circle time?"

"A rather special someone," Tanya repeats with more curiosity than Esti prefers. "Darling, darling Esther, I am absolutely dying to know all the details."

XXX

"Mummy, I'm so hot," Charlotte whines, trying to wriggle her hand out of the Esti's grasp.

"Hush, Charlotte. We're almost there," Esti urges her along, though her own body is drenched in a layer of sweat.

The sun is merciless in a cloudless sky, and Esti squints as she passes each house, using her hand as a visor to shield her eyes.

"Why does Tatty live thousands of years away?" Charlotte moans, her small body going limp as she suddenly refuses to take another step.

They are on their way to visit Dovid, typically a bimonthly excursion that leaves Esti with a muddled knot in her stomach. She never meant to take his child away from him, and she wishes that merging their lives together weren't such a strenuous task. She wishes she could visit Dovid without any reservations, to co-parent in a modern manner where the stress and tension were less lofty than the rejection of an entire religion. He always looks at Charlotte with a heartbroken look in his eyes, though he has been kind enough to verbally express that he knows their separation has been for the best. He is marrying Malkah Rabinowitz next month, who's husband passed away from cancer nearly a year ago. She has three small boys - Mendel, Yosef, and Shmulik - who will love and adore him the way he should be as a father. She feels vaguely jealous - not over the loss of Dovid, but because of his ability to move forward with the life he has chosen.

She scoops Charlotte's hot, compact body into her arms in careful avoidance of starting a screaming match with her toddler. Charlotte squirms impatiently in Esti arms, but she soon settles without too much fuss. Esti is almost thankful for the stifling heat - all the familiar faces from her youth are tucked away in their homes instead of politely turning their judgmental gazes away from Esti as they pass one another on the pavement.

She stops briefly in front of the Rav's old home - the deep red bricks have been painted a pale, fresh yellow, breathing new life into the place that houses so many of Esti's most precious memories.

"Mummy, this is not Tatty's house," Charlotte informs her with a small huff as she repositions her body in Esti's arms.

"Just give me a moment," Esti whispers, the words more a permissive utterance to herself than for her daughter's sake. She closes her eyes and imagines the home as it once was, and suddenly she is sixteen again. The weight of her daughter seems to vanish from her arms as she allows herself to be swept into a vortex of memories.

XXX

Esti walked in silence beside her mother, looking down at her dark boots with solemn eyes. Her father walked several paces ahead, joining in conversation with a group of men from _shul_.

"I know that Ronit is your closest friend, but just keep in mind that she may not quite be herself today," Esti's mother reminded her gently, tugging gently at the fabric of her long black skirt so the hem did not catch on the stone steps of the walkway.

"Yes, Ima, I know." Esti skimmed her tongue across her teeth, mustering a tone of patience. "Her mother has just passed away. I'm not expecting anything from her."

But of course as soon as they entered over the front threshold, Esti found her eyes searching frantically for Ronit amongst the throngs of people. Her gaze settled on Dovid first standing on the outskirts of a group of boy his age, and she nodded in his direction. The boys and girls were kept fairly isolated from each other at this age, so even their mutual acknowledgement of one another felt dangerously intimate.

"Esti!" She turned suddenly, only to be engulfed in Ronit's embrace. "Oh, Esti. I'm so glad you've arrived," Ronit crooned in her ear, tears edging dangerously in her voice. Esti watched her mother step toward a gathering of women before letting herself lean into the embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Ronit," Esti breathed against her neck.

Ronit only held her closer. "Come meet me in the attic bedroom," she whispered. "I've already told Dovid to come join us as well."

All at once, the warmth of her body vanished. She turned to look for Dovid, but she couldn't spot him amongst the crowd. She waited several seconds, to be certain that nobody had bothered to notice her, before slipping up the two sets of familiar staircases and arriving in the attic bedroom.

The attic bedroom was used entirely for storage, dusty and cluttered with trunks and boxes. Ronit and Dovid sat on the floor by the window, the glass surface covered in an icy web of frost. She joined them wordlessly, feeling both lightheaded as the din of the voices rose from below them.

"I have got a surprise for the both of you," Ronit announced, her voice suddenly much cheerier than it had been down in the parlor. Dovid watched her with vibrant shiny eyes, adjusting his glasses in anticipation. He was tall and thin, and though he had surpassed Ronit and Esti in height many years before, there was still something young and boyish about him. She loved him in the fierce way she loved her younger brothers, and missed the days when they had been permitted to play with one another.

Ronit rummaged in the trunk behind her, producing a bottle of vodka and a pack of cigarettes. "From my Mum's secret stash," she explained. "Had to clear it out before my father discovered it. Would've been a pity to let it go to waste." And with that, she unscrewed the bottle's lid. " _L'chaim!_ "

She passed the bottle off to Dovid, who mimicked her toast. " _L'chaim!_ " Esti watched his nose wrinkle as he swallowed a large gulp. "Esti?"

She took the bottle tentatively, letting the liquid slosh in the half empty bottle.

"Go on, Est," Ronit encouraged, cracking open the icy window as she lit a cigarette elegantly. "It will make you feel wonderful. My head already feels as though it swimming in a cloud."

Dovid laughed, suddenly reaching to take off his black brimmed hat, leaving only a _yarmulke_ on his scruffy hair. "It's not too bad, really. Go on."

Esti brought the bottle to her lips, letting her tongue brush against the brim. It tasted terrible, almost chemical, but she bravely took a respectable swig. It burned as she swallowed, and she coughed involuntarily, trying to void the taste from her mouth.

"Here, lean your head toward's mine and inhale," Ronit instructed, and Esti obliged, breathing in a cloud of secondhand smoke, which tasted equally as dreadful.

They passed the bottle and cigarette around several more times in silence, and soon Esti began to feel pleasantly numb.

"Do you ever think about how stupid it is that we can't even hold hands with a boy before we marry them?" Ronit announced suddenly, flicking the butt of the cigarette out the window.

"It is rather ridiculous," agreed Dovid, leaning his head back against the wall. "But I suppose it has a way of working out in the end."

Esti offered nothing, bringing her knees to her chest and leaning her cheek softly against her knees. Her stomach fluttered a little, watching the way the dull sunlight bounced off of Ronit's dark hair. She looked lovelier than usual, her black skirt riding carelessly up above her knees, her cheeks pink and her lips full. She hardly cared that she didn't get to hold hands with any boys.

"I mean, honestly," Ronit continued. "How are we supposed to know we even like who we'll be marrying? Can you imagine how awkward it will be to kiss someone for the first time _ever_ on your wedding night?" She waved her arms about incredulously before reining them in to light another cigarette. She puffed it a few times before handing it off to Dovid, their hands brushing together clumsily. "Whoops, guess we're no longer _shomer negiah._ "

"What if we don't wait?" Dovid mused thoughtfully as he exhaled out a cloud of smoke. "What if we all have our first kiss now? Just to see what it will be like? I mean, after all, we're already already breaking so many rules just by hiding away up here."

Esti let her hair fall over her face, nearly choking on her own breath, but the other two didn't seem to notice.

Ronit had a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Yes. Let's. You and me first, Dovid?"

She handed the cigarette off to Esti. Esti watched the orange tip flare and recede as a hint of a breeze wafted through the attic window. She kept her eyes fixed on the tendrils of smoke as she listened to the awkward shuffling of bodies. Only once did she dare to glance up, briefly watching as Dovid's mouth eagerly covered Ronit's. His eyes were closed, but Ronit's were not, and she caught Esti's gaze and held it there before breaking off the kiss with Dovid.

"Esti?" Dovid turned to his other friend much too eagerly.

"Oh, no. I'm fine, really. I'd really rather not," Esti answered quickly.

Dovid eyes flashed with disappointment, though only briefly. He glanced down at his watch. "We should probably go back down before someone comes looking for us," he spoke reasonably, replacing his hat on his head.

Ronit nodded. "You go first. We'll stagger accordingly. Here, take a mint." She pulled a pack out of the same trunk she'd produced her other illicit items from.

Now it was just the two of them. Esti remained glued to the floor, her body tumbling with a soupy mixture of unidentifiable feelings.

"Shall I go first, or do you want to?" Ronit asked, tucking the vodka and cigarettes back into the trunk.

"Wait," Esti said suddenly, untangling herself from her own limbs and pressing her hand against Ronit's wrist.

She caught Ronit's gaze, studying her face slowly. Ronit made no effort to pull away, her expression stoic, though her eyes flashed the same way they had the day they'd tried on the bikini's together. Esti could never forget that look.

 _It's not that I didn't want to kiss someone._ She could not find the bravery to say words out loud. _It's just that I didn't want to kiss Dovid._

"Ronit!"

The girls jumped away from each other suddenly. Ronit's father. His voice was frighteningly close.

"Ronit? Are you up there? Dovid mentioned he saw you come upstairs." His foot creaked on the bottom step.

"Yes, yes. I'm up here. I just needed a moment," Ronit frantically explained. "I'm coming down now."

Ronit popped a mint into her mouth and clattered down the stairs before the Rav could ascend instead, leaving Esti to breathe in the stale empty air.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE! The end of my school year got really busy and exhausting, and it was difficult to find time to commit to this fic. Good news though - I finished school on Thursday, so I should have more time to write now! Thank you so much for you patience, and though this chapter is short, I hope you enjoy it._

 _Just a quick refresher since it's been a while since the last update- the last chapter and the next several chapters take place in the past as Esti reflects on her feelings and relationship with Ronit when they were teenagers._

* * *

"Esti! Why aren't you dressed? We're meant to be at the Kuperman's for _Shabbos_ lunch in twenty minutes!"

Esti pulled the duvet over head, barricading herself against her mother's shrill voice. She closed her eyes and inhaled a hot, stuffy breath.

"Esti!"

"I don't feel well, Ima," she spoke softly, her lips brushing against the fabric of the duvet.

She felt the mattress depress slightly as her mother sat on the edge, tugging the blanket away from Esti's face, frowning. Esti could imagine her own tired features - puffy eyes, colorless cheeks, hopelessly mussed hair. She knew she wasn't quite sick, but she was experiencing the symptoms of something that made her feel as though she could sink away into her mattress until there wasn't anything left of her.

"Get some rest," her mother conceded, kissing her forehead softly before leaving Esti to inhale the silence.

Silence was a rarity in her home, as one of six children, and she usually revelled in the unexpectedness of it, but now her thoughts swirled in her mind with nothing to distract her. She thought about Ronit. She always thought about Ronit, and it made her simultaneously dizzy, nauseous, and elated.

The moment in the attic had only intensified feelings that were already there. She remembered the way her hand had burned against Ronit's wrist - the realization that if the Rav hadn't interrupted, she would've surely kissed Ronit. The thought left her breathless and frightened. She knew her feelings were deviant to everything she had been raised to believe and sorting through them left her feeling muddled and ill.

All at once, the blanket was much too hot. She threw it off her body and swung her legs to the side of the bed, feeling lightheaded from the sudden movement. She closed her eyes, but Ronit's face was there - full lips, imploring eyes...

She opened her eyes abruptly, rising from the bed and making a determined decision to relocate the bathroom. The small bathroom she shared with her brothers was poorly lit, the only source of light coming from a small window located on the far wall. Turing lights on during _Shabbos_ was prohibited, and only their most important lights were left on for the duration of the Sabbath.

She looked at her dim reflection in the mirror, grimacing at her tired, pale face. She had never felt so lonely. Her feelings carved an endless, all consuming pit in her stomach, and she desperately wanted someone to confide in, someone to console her. Ronit had always been that person, but Ronit was the source of the complex emotions that toiled inside her, leaving her without anyone. Esti drew in another breath as she rested her back against the wall by the tub and let her body slide slowly to the floor. She put her hands on either side of her, leaning against the weight of her arms as she took in slow, even breaths.

The floorboard beneath her right arm suddenly shifted. She opened her eyes in immediate curiosity, pressing her hand against the wooden slat again as she watched it jostle from its place. She pried her fingers beneath the wood, edging it gently out of place.

Beneath the boards, she saw a thin booklet tucked away. She pulled it out of the shadowy crevice and held it close to her eyes in the low lighting. It was a magazine; she read the title _Playboy_ across the top, but her breath caught as she examined the cover image. It as a blonde woman with a tank top pulled up from her stomach, exposing the lower portion of her breasts. Her panties dipped dangerously low, and Esti suddenly felt a wave of strange panic spill into her stomach. Who had put it this here, stowed away from view? Her parents most certainly did not know about it, and the thought of one of her brothers stashing it away made her feel hot and shameful.

The feeling of shame was colossal, and a nagging voice told her to put the magazine back immediately, but a more demanding voice compelled her to open the magazine. She carefully opened the magazine, and it fell open to the centerfold. A dark haired woman lay sprawled across a bed, her lips parted sensuously. She didn't have a shirt on, fully exposing her ample breasts. She wore a pair of sheer panties, and her right hand snaked beneath the material, touching herself beneath the fabric. Esti touched the side of the woman's body, tracing the length of her body with her finger. She felt a sudden throbbing between her own legs, and she found it difficult to properly breathe.

She stood abruptly and switched on the bathroom light without hesitation, and brightness spilled into the room, illuminating the glossy pages. Her breaths came out quick and shallow, and her body churned with unfamiliar desires. The ache between her legs pulsated, and her body begged for a release she didn't know how to satisfy. She hastily shoved the magazine back beneath the floorboards and replaced the loose slat. She flicked off the bathroom light and hurried back to her bedroom, throwing the comforter over her body.

The feeling only intensified as she squeezed her eyes shut, the images from the magazine branded in her mind. A primal urge overtook her body, and she pushed her nightgown up to her belly and pressed her fist between her thighs, desperate to satiate her growing desire. She rocked against her fist, falling into an unfamiliar rhythm as spasms of pleasure exploded through her body. The images from the magazine flashed behind her eyes, but unexpectedly, her mind settled on a vision of Ronit.

A soft moan left Esti's lips, and a gush of pleasure released throughout her entire body. She trembled against her fist, riding the feeling to completion. Her body tingled as her muscles relaxed. The strange feeling continued to travel through her like the aftermath of an electrical current. She felt it all the way down to her toes. Her breathing steadied, and she curled into her blanket, a pleasant warmth engulfing her body.

She closed her eyes, and tried her best not to ruminate on what had just happened. She felt as light as a cloud, and she allowed herself to drift off dreamily, leaving her muddled thoughts behind, if only temporarily.


End file.
